


i’d make a deal with god and i’d get him to swap our places

by TooManyGaysTooLittleTime



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Minor Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Minor Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Minor Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possibly the weirdest soulmate AU idea ever, cheesy af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime/pseuds/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime
Summary: “Arya always thought that Gendry would be her soulmate. Until he wasn’t.”a cheesy af reincarnation/soulmate aucurrently on hiatus, unsure when it will be picked up again!
Relationships: Arya Stark/???
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (title from [Running Up That Hill, the Meg Myers cover](https://open.spotify.com/track/7zLeOgBrdrCfMf47MCyLMC?si=FLXZkf6ZT8awIMkOwTA9hA))

Arya always thought that Gendry would be her soulmate. Until he wasn’t. 

Anyone who knew anything about soulmates could have told Arya that she was going down the wrong track hoping that Gendry would be her soulmate, but Arya had never particularly wanted to discuss the concept of soulmates much. She’d been perfectly happy believing that one day—she never knew when it would be, exactly, but ‘soon’ seemed a good enough answer—Gendry and her would find out they were actually soulmates, and then they’d kiss and live happily ever after. 

(Arya had wanted to kiss Gendry since the time she’d discovered what crushes were.)

Not that it was important any more. All that mattered was that Gendry was lying on the sofa, his eyes misted over, clearly getting the memory that would show him his soulmate, and Arya— _wasn’t_. 

In truth, Arya had thought this whole ‘soulmate’ business was complete and utter bullshit from the beginning, made up to force unhappy relationships on people who didn’t want them (how else would you explain the divorce rate, after all?). Now that Gendry is having his memory, though, Arya believes in soulmates for the first time. And it’s horrible.

Arya takes her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it with one hand, the other holding Gendry’s. (She doesn’t think about how this will probably be the last chance she gets to hold hands with Gendry.) She scrolls to Jon’s number. Jon has always known what to do in these kinds of situations better than her. 

**Me, 1:54 p.m.**

jon, gendry’s getting his memory

**Me, 1:54 p.m.**

i’m scared what will happen to us. i love him, Jon. Really do.

Jon texts back almost immediately. Never before has Arya been so grateful for his habit of constantly being on his phone, or tablet, or computer, or electronic device. 

**Jon, 1:54 p.m.**

Okay so you know you don’t HAVE to be with your soulmate right?!

**Jon, 1:55 p.m.**

there’s always hope for you & gendry, i think he genuinely loves you too & would choose you in every situation

Arya could hug her phone right now. She would, if Hot Pie hadn’t been sitting with her and staring palely at her and Gendry.

Finally, Hot Pie speaks, the first time since Gendry passed out in the middle of conversation five minutes ago and they’d both had to dash and make sure he was okay. 

“Arry...”

“Just don’t, Pie,” she says, tears springing unbidden to her eyes. “Please.” 

Hot Pie moves to sit next to her, and wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

“It’s going to be OK, Arry,” he says, gentler this time. “Gendry loves you, you know? He wouldn’t sacrifice you in a hurry.” 

Arya slumps into him. “I just—What if she’s the perfect woman? What if she’s everything I want to be and can never be? What if—what if she’s like my _sister_?”

“Gendry’s bi, Arry,” Hot Pie says, slightly confused. 

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

Hot Pie sighs. “Arry. You’re overreacting.”

“This is my fucking _boyfriend_ we’re talking about!” Arya’s voice is loud, but not harmful. She huddles into Hot Pie. “I don’t want him to leave me,” she mumbles. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hot Pie reassures her. “Gendry loves you. He won’t throw you away.”

They stay huddled like that for a while, Arya’s eyes blank and unfeeling, Hot Pie fixed on his phone.

(He’s playing some kind of cooking game with one hand. When Arya can be bothered to, she watches him do it out of the corner of her eye. He’s really good at it, in all honesty.)

There’s the familiar noise of Gendry waking up behind them, and Arya jumps to her feet. Immediately, she runs over to Gendry, shaking his shoulder to wake him faster.

“Who’s your soulmate? Are you gonna leave me for them? Will we ever be boyfriend and girlfriend again?”

Gendry rubs his eyes sleepily. “Blonde guy... he was an asshole in the memory I got given, though. Don’t think I’d know if he’d changed in a new life..” 

Hot Pie puts away his phone and goes to the kitchen. He calls back “I’m going to make us all cake, ‘cause I think we need it!”

Gendry murmurs assent, and as soon as Hot Pie is out of sight, Arya practically pounces on him, her arms going around his shoulders. 

“Hey, Arya, you OK?” He asks, awkwardly.

“No... Gendry... you won’t leave me, will you? For your soulmate, now that you—you have one?”

Gendry wraps his arms around her. “I’d never leave you just because I got a soulmate who wasn’t you, Arya. Trust me.” 

“How can I tell you won’t find whoever they are and run off with them?” Arya’s tone is bitter.

“You can’t,” Gendry says, quietly, “but put a little faith in me. If you can.” 

Arya hugs him tightly. “I’ll try.”

And Hot Pie calls from the kitchen, “I need someone to help with the eggs!”, and Arya gets up, and Gendry makes the joke about her being an egg ninja, and it doesn’t seem as bad as it was a couple of moments ago. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya tries to find out more about soulmates. 
> 
> Feat. Sansa Stark and 3/4 of the Tyrell brood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for the two people who left kudos and the one person who bookmarked, come get your cheesy coffee-shop shenanigans

Arya had called ahead to tell Sansa about the situation. There was really no reason for her to be nervous. 

Still, her fingers tangle together with anxiety as she gets off the train and checks Google Maps to make sure she has the right location. 

_Highgarden Café_ , the words on her screen proclaimed. There was a picture of a small building, roses growing on trellises all around it. Google Maps said it would be a fifteen minute walk, but Arya, knowing all too well how difficult it was to navigate King’s Landing from the last time she had come (and met Gendry on the way out), had given herself half an hour. She was the practical one of the family, after all. 

Arya tucks her phone into her pocket as she focuses on finding the exit from the train station, cursing her short stature as she attempts to push her way through crowds of people. When she finally finds the exit, she emerges onto a busy road, traffic seeming to rush in all directions. Arya takes a deep breath to keep herself centred, then pulls out her phone again to check the route. 

According to Maps, she was on the Street of Steel, and Highgarden Café was several streets away, on a street named Visenya’s Hill. She shakes her head at the strange naming conventions of King’s Landing, and starts off to her right, following the directions that her phone gives her. 

When she looks up to cross the road, Arya once again finds herself stunned by how many people there are in King’s Landing. She remembers the saying that one could lose even their soulmate in King’s Landing crowds, and thinks that it is wholly true. 

Arya moves with the body of people as it flows over the crossing, then takes the left path as it forks in front of the sept of Baelor the Blessed. Her eyes flick up to glance at the architecture—Lonely Westeros had once said that the sept of Baelor the Blessed was more important, architecturally, than the Red Keep, to quite a few complaints from anti-Targaryens. Arya smirks at the overly pious faces carved onto the gargoyles that decorate it. 

She continues following the route her phone provides, and eventually emerges onto what her phone says is Visenya’s Hill. Immediately, she is struck by how quiet it seems in comparison to the other parts of King’s Landing she has seen. Arya smiles at the knowledge that at least one place in King’s Landing isn’t busy. 

She walks past many small shops, subconsciously noting down details about them: Sun and Spear’s gloriously orange paint, a small tourist store simply called R’hllor selling miniature statues of hearts in flames instead of the more usual ‘I Heart King’s Landing!’ t-shirts. She scans both sides of the street, searching for rose-covered trellises. 

It doesn’t take her long to spot a small café with Highgarden Café spelled out in elegant letters above a series of miniature rose gardens. Taking a deep breath to calm her apprehension, she crosses the street and opens the door. 

Immediately, she is assaulted by the smell of rose tea (which she had drunk once before, at Sansa’s urging, and despised). She pinches her brows together and sighs. Naturally, Sansa would suggest a place that sold something Arya hated. 

She looks up to see a young man with a mop of curly brown hair, dressed in a green apron with a yellow flower motif, asking “Are you here for the tea tasting event at three? Because if you are, you’re an hour early—” 

“She isn’t for the tea tasting, Loras!” Arya hears from the back of the shop. She recognises Sansa’s voice immediately, and her mind can’t decide whether to sigh in relief or be angry at Sansa for bailing her out. She decides to keep it inside, and says to the young man—Loras, as his badge says—“No, I’m not. That’s my sister over there. Sansa Stark.”

He looks at her with a curious stare. “So you’re the sister of the woman... who’s dating my sister. Okay.” 

“Wait—dating your sister?” Arya frowns. 

Loras points back to a pretty, similarly brown-haired girl who is giggling with Sansa about something. “Yeah, that’s her there. Margaery Tyrell.”

It’s Arya’s turn to shrug and say “Okay.” 

“So—” Loras says as he moves behind the counter, ready to serve a queue that consists of just Arya. “What would you like today?”

Arya scans the boards. “How many different teas do you _sell_?”

Loras lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Far too many, in my opinion.”

“Nobody’s asking your opinion, Loras,” another brown-haired man quips from behind a tea machine. (At least Arya thinks it’s a tea machine.) 

“Whatever,” Loras says, then turns his attention back to Arya. “Decided yet?”

“You do actual coffee here, right?” 

Loras smiles. “Yeah.”

“Thank the Children of the Forest. A black coffee, then.” 

“You can thank Loras’s boyfriend for the coffee. He’s literally the only customer who orders it,” the man at the tea machine says, moving to what Arya realises is a Nespresso machine. 

Loras shoots him a dirty look. “More people than Renly get coffee, Garlan.” 

Garlan shrugs. “Whatever you say.” He busies himself with making the coffee, leaving Arya and Loras to talk.

“Boyfriend, huh,” Arya says to break the silence. “Soulmates too?” 

Loras’s face softens. “Yeah.” 

“Lucky,” Arya says. “My boyfriend got his memory a few days ago. His soulmate’s not me.” 

Loras gives her a consoling smile. “Renly and I are lucky. Not many soulmates make very good couples, I’m afraid.” 

“Wait,” Arya pauses. “Is this Renly _Baratheon_?” 

“Yeah,” Loras shrugs. “Hotshot lawyer, straight out of Harvard.” 

“Then you’re... you’re dating my boyfriend’s _uncle_.” Arya’s eyebrows raise dramatically. 

“Wait, what the fuck—” Loras exclaims, but is interrupted by a coffee cup thudding down in front of Arya. Garlan gives Loras a look, probably about his swearing. 

Arya grins at Loras and walks to the table where Sansa and her _girlfriend_ are sitting, engaged in conversation. Margaery looks up, her face nearly an exact female copy of her brother’s. 

“What’s this about Loras dating your boyfriend’s uncle?” 

“ _Margaery_ , it’s rude to eavesdrop!” Loras calls, to which Margaery responds with a smirk. 

Sansa pulls out a chair for Arya and narrows her brows. “So. What’s this about soulmates all of a sudden?” 

Arya finds herself spilling everything that’s happened—Gendry getting his soulmate, her worry over it, and explaining Renly Baratheon’s connection to Gendry—and Sansa and Margaery watch her, mugs of tea in front of them. 

When she looks up from her coffee, she sees that Loras had joined them, leaning on the table. “Sorry,” he whispers, “just want to know about my boyfriend being an _uncle_ , of all things.” 

Arya finds herself throwing him a smile. 

She turns to Sansa and Margaery. “Well?” she asks. 

“I don’t see why it should affect your relationship,” Margaery says, folding her hands. “Many people have relationships without the soulmate bond—”

“I just wanted to know that we were soulmates,” Arya says, “that we’d never split up—”

“Gendry’s absolutely devoted to you, Arya,” Sansa says, “anyone can see from his Snapchat.” 

“You follow him on _Snapchat_?!” Arya exclaims.

Sansa shrugs. “Consider it a familial necessity.” 

“Ladies.” Loras cuts in, seeing Arya clearly spoiling to question Sansa on her unorthodox following of Gendry on Snapchat. “Snapchat is not the issue here.” 

“Too right,” Margaery says. “Arya dear, I think you’ll be fine. Really. Neither Sansa nor I are soulmates—”

“Hang on. You’re not?” 

“No,” Sansa frowns “in fact it’s positively strange that none of the Starks have soulmates.” 

“Not even—Mom and Dad?!” 

“Mom’s is Littlefinger,” Sansa makes a face, “but Dad has none.” 

“That’s... something,” Loras says evenly. “You’re sure, no soulmates?” 

“No,” Sansa frowns, “none of us have ever had memories.” 

“That’s not normal, is it,” Arya says. It’s not a question. 

Margaery gets up. “This will require research. Sansa, you want to come to the library with me?” 

Sansa shoots Margaery the sappiest smile Arya has ever seen, and she instinctively makes a face. They get up, finishing their cups of tea, leaving Loras and Arya alone at the table, Arya with her coffee. 

Loras raises his eyebrows. “This day is shaping up to be something.” 

“Yeah,” Arya laughs. An idea comes over her. “What’s it like dating someone who’s your soulmate?” she asks. 

“It’s like dating pretty much anyone else. There are good days and bad days. Soulmates don’t make for a perfect relationship.” 

“That’s... comforting to know,” Arya says. “I just, I just think I had this soulmate thing wrong. I thought that it was, like, two people whose souls are perfect for each other—”

Loras snorts. “Soulmates are weird shit, and I say this as a person who loves their soulmate a lot. I don’t know which God decided to make such a weird system, or why they decided that some people suit each other more than others who would have been perfect.” He cuffs the back of Arya’s head. “You staying in King’s Landing?” 

“For a few days,” Arya says evenly. 

“Cool,” Loras says. “You wanna meet your boyfriend’s uncle at some point during your stay?” 

“Why not,” Arya smiles, and Loras gives her a fist-bump. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked throw me a kudos and/or a comment! they give me life
> 
> see you next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the Boyfriend’s Uncle: Arya Stark Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another thank you for all the kudos and comments! i promise i haven’t abandoned this fic, it might just be a bit longer between chapters due to school stuff
> 
> anyway enjoy!

Arya finishes up her first coffee of the day (not a patch on Highgarden’s coffee, but she’ll never admit that Sansa’s coffee shop recommendation was right) and checks her phone for any messages from Gendry. 

**Me, 7:36 a.m.**

boo i’m meeting ur surprise uncle today 

**Me, 7:36 a.m.**

also apparently uncle’s boyf’s sister is dating sansa? when we all get married it will be so weird

**Me, 7:37 a.m.**

that is, if we’re still getting married 

There has been no response from when she sent them, fifteen minutes ago, and Arya sighs internally. She misses him, misses their easy camaderie, even misses Hot Pie’s constant teasing, even though she’ll never admit it out loud. 

Another one of the guests at Chataya’s Inn comes to ask if the seat next to Arya is taken, and she jumps away from her phone and quickly replies “No, just leaving,” to prevent any unpleasant misunderstandings that might arise. Arya has stayed in one too many strange hotels in strange places, and got into one too many strange exchanges, to not immediately get away from her seat. She slips her phone back into her pocket as she goes to dump her coffee cup in the bin (terribly irresponsible to the Children of the Forest, Arya knows, but she has too many other things on her mind to really be concerned about them), then withdraws it again as she walks out of the hotel and stops outside to set up navigation to the fucking _penthouse apartments_ where Renly Baratheon lives, apparently. As she is doing so, a text comes through from Sansa, and Arya groans as she swipes to look at it.

**Sansa, 7:52 a.m.**

margaery & me will be coming along too, don’t wait up we’ll get there on our own <3

Arya suppresses a grimace at the heart emoji at the end, and goes back to Google Maps to set up the route to the Storm’s End apartments. She has to abruptly turn down the volume as it begins saying “ **Turn left out of Chataya’s Inn—** ” and scowls at it as she starts walking away from the hotel, turning left as she goes. 

As she walks, Arya takes in the famous Street of Silk’s hotels. She grins as she thinks back to their history as brothels, and how the owners of them were supposed to be the reincarnation of the whoremongers who ran it. Arya had seen Chataya and her wife once, as she arrived, and sure enough she did look creepily like the Chataya who once ran the brothel on the same spot... 

Arya passes the time as she walks by looking at the buildings around her, and thinking back to what she had learned in her History of King’s Landing course back at Winterfell University. She is staring at the place where Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain, had been knocked off his horse by a knight known as the Knight of Flowers, and examining the plaque marking it, when she sees Sansa and Margaery waving frantically at her from over the street. She quickly finishes reading it, then hurries over to where they are waiting in front of Storm’s End penthouse apartments. Margaery looks annoyed as she examines her manicure (pink and green, nicely done). 

“The woman at the desk won’t let us in,” she fumes, “and Loras isn’t answering my calls.” 

Arya sizes her up through the glass doors. The woman manning the desk looks formidable, to be sure, but Arya’s quick scan reveals to her that she looks in dire need of coffee. Which, of course, starts the wheels of a plan turning in her head. 

“Be right back,” Arya calls as she crosses the street, heading for the coffee shop on the other side. She winks when she sees Sansa’s aghast stare. 

The line is short, and it takes less than five minutes before Arya is out, a cappuccino clutched in her left hand. Sansa and Margaery both shoot her and the coffee questioning looks, but Arya pushes open the glass doors to the penthouse, and whispers to them over her shoulder, “I’ve got a plan.” 

Sending Sansa and Margaery off to sit at the side, she approaches the front desk with a smile pasted on her face. 

The badge that the woman wears says Georgina Clegane, and Arya wonders if she is a reincarnation of Ser Gregor—but those questions are not for her to ask now. Instead, she holds out the coffee like a peace offering. 

“I saw you looked tired, and thought you might like this,” Arya supplies helpfully, gesturing for Sansa and Margaery to start to move. 

“Thank you,” Georgina Clegane says, sounding surprised. She looks at Arya through beady eyes. “You’re not trying to flirt with me, are you?” 

Arya doesn’t know whether to respond with _Yes_ or _I have a boyfriend_ , so she simply shrugs and says “Who knows.” 

Georgina Clegane breaks out in laughter. “I like your spirit, kid. Now, you look like you’re here for something. Spit it out—what is it?” 

Arya rests her elbows on the desk’s top. She just manages to reach it with her small stature. “I’m here to visit a friend.” 

“Anyone in particular?” 

Arya chooses to go close to the truth. “My uncle. Renly Baratheon.” 

“Tenth floor.” Georgina Clegane says, then hesitated before adding, “You might want to wait a while, though...” 

“I’ll go now,” Arya declares, “get out of your hair.” She walks to the elevator, discreetly waving to Sansa and Margaery from where they are hidden behind a plant. She throws a glance back at Georgina Clegane as she waits for the lift to reach the ground floor, seeing that she is occupied with the cappuccino, and ushers them in to the surprise of the others in the elevator when it reached the ground floor. Arya walks inside after the others have all gone out, and presses the button for the tenth floor. The doors close, and when she turns around, expecting to be able to look out the window and see King’s Landing—

Apparently the thought of the entirety of King’s Landing seeing them kissing was attractive to Sansa’s exhibitionist side, for they are hogging the window, and not even appreciating the view: instead they’re making out. Arya groans loudly and leans back against the wall, wishing for the elevator to get to floor ten already. 

When it reaches the tenth floor, thankfully without anyone else entering, Arya stumbles out, feeling sickened. She is followed by laughter as she goes down the corridor, looking at all the numbers. 

“Which one is Renly in?” she calls, and Margaery returns with “Forty-nine.” Okay, she’s maybe a bit useful after all. 

Arya finds number forty-nine, Sansa and Margaery following behind, and knocks. The force of her knocks pushes the unlocked door open. 

Arya peers inside, and immediately turns away, making fake-retching noises. “ _Eulghh_ ,” she declares, then points an accusing finger through the gap where the door is open. 

“I’m going to come back in within the next five minutes, and you’d better have stopped boning by then!” 

Loud, deep laughter rolls through the door, and it reminds Arya deeply of Gendry. She swallows a little to stave off homesickness. 

Arya turns to Sansa and Margaery, but neither of them are particularly sympathetic: they’re making out instead. _Again_. 

Oh, Children of the Forest, Arya is so glad that she is only staying for a few days, and not with either of the Tyrells. 

Loras’s voice comes from the apartment, breaking Margaery and Sansa apart. “It’s safe to come in now.” 

“ _Finally_ ,” Arya mutters, grumbling as she pushes open the door. The bed where she had seen Renly and Loras, ah, fucking, before is now white duvet, while the two of them are at least a bit more covered up by it. She sits down on the bed with a plop and rests her head in her hands as she waits for Sansa to stop gushing over the glass tableware that Renly apparently just keeps around in his cupboard. 

Naked Renly aside (now that was _far_ too much of her boyfriend’s uncle than she would have liked to see), this is the first time that she has seen him, and he is terribly alike Gendry. They have the same dark eyebrows and black eyes, same sharp noses, same lips. Even Renly’s hair, though longer and glossier than Gendry’s, is the same black ridden by gray. 

The resemblance is so striking that if not for Loras beside him, Arya could have been fooled into kissing him, believing he was Gendry. 

Sansa finishes cooing over the glasses and also sits on the end of the bed, Margaery sitting far too close to her. Nobody speaks for a moment. 

“So,” Arya says to break the silence, “you’re my boyfriend’s uncle.” 

“Joffrey? Oh, dear God, please tell me you’re not dating him—”

“Do I look like an idiot? No,” Arya scowls. “I’m dating Gendry. Gendry Waters.” 

“Oh, one of Robert’s many, many children outside marriage.” Renly says. “God, do you know how much work he’s made for me? Too much, that’s how much.” 

Loras nuzzles into his side, and Renly shoots him the grin that Gendry always gives her. Homesickness courses through her, and she fights back tears to remember what she came for. 

Margaery does it for her. “So, Arya here—” she pokes Arya’s rib, earning herself a dirty look—“came over for a talk about soulmates. And the strangest thing is, you see, none of the Starks that we know of have soulmates.” 

“There was one Stark, that I know of, who had a soulmate.” Renly says suddenly. “Lyanna. Ned’s sister. My brother’s still half in love with her.” 

“ _Lyanna_.” Sansa snaps her fingers. “She was the exception it talked about.” 

“What exception?” Arya demands. “And what’s _it_?” 

Sansa smiles smugly. “Yesterday, Margaery and I found a book in the university library with a complete record of all the Starks, and their soulmates. Lyanna, throughout the centuries, is the only one with an actual soulmate.” 

“Robert Baratheon.” Renly sighs heavily. 

“Yep,” Margaery agrees cheerily. “Which begs the question: Why does Lyanna have a soulmate when literally no other Stark does?” 

Arya picks at the worn leather of her boots. “I for one would like to know.” 

“Same,” Sansa says. “Margaery dear, more research is in order, it seems.” 

“Yes, of course,” Margaery says, pecking her on the cheek. Arya frowns. 

“You’d better research, not just make out!” 

Margaery’s laugh tinkles as she leaves the room. 

Arya turns to Loras and Renly, who are staring at each other with what she would describe as lust, but for now they appear to be holding off. 

Renly looks at Arya, and his dark eyes seem to pierce her soul. “Gendry, your boyfriend. Does he treat you well? Is he a good kid?” 

“He is,” Arya says softly. 

“That’s good.” Renly says. “Means that I didn’t muck up his life, at least.” 

“You didn’t,” Arya smiles, melancholy, then leaves the apartment, walking past Georgina Clegane who shoots her a smile, and out into the streets of King’s Landing, where the rain is already pounding on the sidewalk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chuck any questions or theories about this AU at me and i’ll do my best to answer them if you have them! 
> 
> otherwise see you next time!


	4. Chapter 4, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya is dragged along on one of Sansa and Margaery’s... “research” sprees, and on the way meets someone with some very interesting memories...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this will probably be about five or six chapters in total so hang in there! i might actually finish a multi-chapter fic!
> 
> this chapter is split in half and the next half will be along soon!

There are only a few days left for Arya’s stay in King’s Landing, and she’s decided that she may as well spend the remainder of the time looking at the issue of soulmates. She certainly hasn’t done much else that’s not related to soulmates.

And, despite her initial prickly reaction to the Tyrells, she knows that she’ll miss them when she goes North again. 

Arya checks her phone, a text from Sansa on the lock screen still unread. She leans her shoulder against the window of one of the many, many, many tourist shops in King’s Landing (seriously, she’s surprised that any of them make any money at all, given how many there are and how similar the souvenirs they sell are) and opens her phone. 

**Sansa, 8:32 a.m.**

hey arya want to join me and marge in the university library and help us with research?

Arya snorts at ‘research’—knowing Sansa and Margaery, it probably involved one of them poring over the other, with lips instead of eyes. 

She still wants to know more about why the Stark soulmates are so different to others, though, so she texts back her agreement. 

Arya pushes off the window and moves to venture back into King’s Landing, but is stopped by a man exiting the gift shop seeing her and stopping in his tracks.

“I remember you...” he breathes as soon as he sees Arya, and while Arya would usually have kicked him ( _hard_ ) with her heeled boots, something in her cries out recognition, and so she nods her head.

“I am so sorry, you must be confused... come inside, I will explain,” the man says, and Arya follows him into the gift shop, pushing past a row of far too long T-shirts that fall in her face.

It looks just like all the other souvenir shops she’s seen initially, selling _I Heart King’s Landing_ memorabilia and postcards with what she’s pretty sure are stock photos put on the front. However, the further she goes back in the shops, the more the generic paraphernalia gives way to what can only be described as... _interesting_ souvenirs to buy for your relatives. 

She thinks she even sees a sword in there.

The man leads her to the counter and goes behind it, fiddling to open a drawer in the desk. Arya frowns as she watches him.

“Are you meant to be doing that?”

“He is,” another voice adds, and Arya spins to see that it’s coming from a faintly red-haired man, carrying a box with what seem to be shrunken heads in jars in it. The man puts down the box and starts taking out the jars, and those are definitely shrunken heads in there. Arya tries not to retch.

“Oh, I’m Jorah Mormont,” the man adds, “I own this shop. And the man behind the counter is Jaqen H’ghar, my husband.” 

“Right,” Arya says. “That explains nothing.”

“Aha!” the man behind the counter—Jaqen—says, holding up something that is long and thin and almost certainly stabby. “Found it.”

Arya frowns. “Is that... a sword?”

“Not just any sword,” Jaqen H’ghar smiles. “I remember when I first saw you in my past life, before you became no one. You had this.”

Arya takes the sword from his hands and runs her hand along it. Dirt falls away with her touch, and onto the laminate floor. Although part of the metal is rusted, Arya can tell that it would have once been a sword worthy of legends.

Or maybe she just really likes this sword.

She remembers something the man—Jaqen—had said. “Wait, you knew me in a past life?”

Jaqen H’ghar nods. “Just as little then.”

“ _Hey!_ ” Arya complains, because she absolutely detests being called ‘little’. “I’m five foot four!”

The other man snorts as he shoots a look over in their direction while stacking the jars. “Heels don’t count.” 

“Whatever.” She puts the sword down and turns back to Jaqen H’ghar. “You know what, I really appreciate you showing me this sword, but I don’t think I could take it home.” 

“Why, you must, it is yours,” the man explains. “I looked for it to give to you.”

“Bit creepy.” Arya mutters under her breath, although he seems to hear her if his laugh is any indication.

“You were a different person the last life I saw you,” Jaqen observes. “You have grown into someone new. I see, you are not the Arya Stark who would want her sword.”

“Wait!” Arya says, as he goes to lock it back away. “I want it.”

His eyebrows raise, but he halts nonetheless. “You are sure?”

“Yes.” Her conviction is fierce. “It’s my sword.” 

He chuckles. “I will wrap up the sword. You may have it.” 

He gets to work, bubble-wrapping the rusted metal and running a roll of duct tape around it to keep it in place. Arya casts a glance at the rows of shrunken heads in glass. One in particular catches her attention.

“Hey, that looks like someone—someone that I used to know, but I don’t know where I know them from.” she frowns.

Jorah Mormont walks over and leans down to look. “This one’s supposed to be the shrunken head of Sandor Clegane, also known as The Hound. Can’t remember which of his lives it is, though.”

“I’ve seen him before,” she realises. “In one of my past lives.” 

Jorah gives her a searching look. “If you want to go dig up the dirt of your previous lives, I’d be very careful, miss. Sandor Clegane is by no means the worst of those who roamed Westeros in previous lives, and I don’t know if the lives they live now have changed their personalities much.” 

“I’ll be careful,” Arya promises as Jaqen gives her the sword. 

She holds it under her arm, careful not to knock anything over as she goes out. “Thank you,” she says, because she doesn’t know what else can be said. 

**Sansa, 9:03 a.m.**

where are you? marge & i are waiting ! 

**Me, 9:04 a.m.**

i s2g I’m coming, don’t you have other things to occupy you though 

She shoves her phone back into her pocket and heads towards King’s Landing University, Needle under her arm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos are appreciated, comments make my entire day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya third-wheels Sansa and Margaery’s research date, now with a sword in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot broke into my house and threatened to burn my crops unless i wrote it so... up goes the chapter count, again
> 
> king’s landing university library is definitely inspired by the beinecke library at yale

Arya gets quite a few suspicious looks from the students as she wanders around the campus with her newly-acquired sword (wrapped in bubblewrap) under her arm. She ignores them, and when the person she asks for directions inquires about ‘the thing you’re carrying’, she answers back “A sword,” with a completely straight face. A smile broadens across her face as she looks back over her shoulder to take in their bemused expression. 

She finds her way to the library easily once she has been given directions, and gives her visitor pass to the man at the receptionist’s desk, who pulls down his glasses to examine it. Tapping her foot on the floor as she waits, she stares around the parts of the library she can see. She tries to hide how impressed she is from the receptionist, but when he hands her pass back he gives her a knowing smile. “Like the place?” He asks, leaning back into his chair.

“Yeah,” Arya says, still staring at the ceiling. She points at the glass of the windows. 

“That’s Braavosi-style glass. It’s really expensive and hard to get in place. Who designed this?” she asks, turning back to the receptionist. His badge says _Bronn_ , she notes, as her eyes fix on him. 

“Tyrion Lannister,” he says, and Arya picks up on the sappy look that crosses his face. She resists the urge to question him further, instead taking her pass back and replying, “Well, he did a great job. Thanks.”

Arya passes through the double doors, the glass embellished with images of dragons, and as soon as she enters the main part of the library, she nearly stumbles back out. She’s never seen so many books in one place before—in all the places she’s been to, few have had libraries as public and as extensive as this one. Floors of shelves are encased in four walls of glass, and her eyes flick up and down it again.

It takes a lot to make Arya Stark speechless, but for once, she is bereft of anything to say.

**Sansa, 10:03 a.m.**

stop staring and come find us! we’re on floor 2

She looks up and snorts when she sees Sansa and Margaery both leaning over the rail, waving wildly. Arya waves back, feeling slightly awkward, then turns away to go up the stairs to the second floor.

It is only slightly less dark on the level above, and Arya still blinks whenever she sees a strong light in the stairwell. She rubs her eyes as she emerges right in front of a display lit by spotlights. After she looks up from behind her fists, she notices Margaery and Sansa striding towards her, dressed in nearly identical outfits of sweaters and skirts. Margaery is the first to reach her. 

“How is the library? Satisfies your hunger for King’s Landing architecture?”

Arya puts on a frown. “Hmm, I don’t know... it’s certainly very technologically advanced with regards to the materials used...”

Margaery’s laugh tinkles. “You and your incredible fascination with buildings.”

Sansa, meanwhile, has narrowed her eyes as she takes in Arya’s bubble-wrapped sword. “What are you carrying around?”

“Oh, did I not tell you about the random guy who supposedly knew me in a past life? And found my ex-sword to give specifically to me? Sort of creepy, I’ll admit...” Arya grins at the look that passes Sansa’s face.

Her sister shakes her head disapprovingly, perfectly straightened hair flying about. “Oh, Children of the Forest, Arya. Why do you seem to attract the strangest people to you?”

Arya shrugs, or as much as she can while holding a sword. “What have you found out?” she inquires as Margaery starts leading them back to where Arya had seen them before.

Sansa’s blush is visible even in the dim light. “Not... much...”

Arya groans exaggeratedly. “You are absolutely disgusting.”

Margaery shoots them a cheeky smile. “My research on how to make Sansa moan is completely essential, Arya.”

“Did not need to know that,” Arya calls after her as Margaery runs to recapture their space from a blonde boy with a sneer. Sansa is more redness than actual skin by now.

The small cubby where Sansa and Margaery have been doing... _things_ which Arya _definitely_ does not want to know about is occupied by their sparkly stationery and notebooks, and by a book.

While Margaery and Sansa may not have noticed the book to be out of the ordinary, Arya feels a mental shock so powerful that she rocks back on her heels after seeing it. Blinking, she moves closer to it as if in a trance. As she touches it, memories flow into her like a great flood: _the movement of a horse under her, swords keening against each other, warm blood spurting out of an injury and onto her hand, the burn of a liquid as it slips down her throat..._

Arya feels her sense of self slowly eroding as she becomes lost in the past. Distantly, she feels the floor underneath her fallen body, and hears the cries for help of Sansa and Margaery, but they are getting further and further away by the second.

_... faces staring out at her from the walls, the fall of a coin into her palm, a whispered “valar morghulis”, her sword bright and shining on the first day it was given to her..._

A certain memory pulls her, steadies her in the storm of thoughts. _Blue eyes boring back into her own, grey fur under her fingers, growls from the back of a direwolf’s throat that seem to come from her, somehow, as well_. 

Arya’s last thought before she wakes up is of blonde hair ( _or white, it could be white_ ) in the sun, and blue ( _or perhaps purple, her own eyes are reflected in them_ ) eyes.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” she hears a soft, female voice say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stay safe, hang in there and support black lives matter as much as you can! see you next time
> 
> also, because it’s important: tyrion and bronn are married and have adopted podrick. it is gays only in this house (arya and gendry are both bi)

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, when you reach the same age you first met your soulmate in your last life, you are shown your first memory of them—and then have to work out who they are. 
> 
> You never meet your soulmate until after you are shown the memory of your past life.
> 
> (if you’ve read please kudos/comment! i need my serotonin!)


End file.
